


Eggshell

by rodabonor



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodabonor/pseuds/rodabonor
Summary: Will has a wet dream about someone that isn't Hannibal. Hannibal insists he's not jealous.





	Eggshell

Hannibal opened his eyes and saw nothing but an empty black slate. He blinked, and searched the room. It was still nighttime; the clock on the bedside table told him it was almost four thirty in the morning. He did not know what had woken him until he heard the faint rustle of sheets beside him, a chord he recognized from the dissonant melody of Will’s nightmares.

Sitting up, he saw that Will was on his back, covers thrown off, arms outstretched. A strip of skin was visible on his belly where his t-shirt had ridden up. It didn’t look like he was having a nightmare. It looked like he was a prey animal in the wild, basking in its sense of safety. He made no sound, but there were small, impatient twitches of his hips that Hannibal knew from other circumstances entirely. Even in the dark, he could tell that Will was hard, his cock straining against the front of his boxer shorts.

Hannibal paused and considered. He could rouse Will from his dreams and offer a helping hand, or he could simply watch him and the restless thrashing of his arousal. The look on his face, open and vulnerable and soft with desire, made the latter seem appealing, but in the end, Hannibal opted to climb between Will’s legs and tug his underwear down. Then he wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock and sucked gently, lapping up the precome that had gathered at the slit.

Will jerked and then moaned: a loud sound that was equally startled and startling. A hand came up to touch Hannibal’s hair.

“Am I dreaming?” Will whispered into the silence. 

Hannibal pulled back. “Not right now,” he said. “What dreams did I interrupt, I wonder.”

“You would hate to know.”

“Would I?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I dreamed about Molly.”

Hannibal was momentarily thankful for the darkness. His face betrayed nothing, but he couldn’t account for whatever was showing in his eyes. “I see,” he said, faux pleasant. “And does she often visit you in dreams?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” Will repeated, fondly, just a hint of mockery in his tone. “Because you’re not jealous.”

“I admit I am possessive. Not jealous.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There is to me.” Hannibal took Will’s face in his hands and tipped it up, forcing eye contact. “Jealousy is petty. It implies distrust and insecurity. My desire is to possess you; thus I am possessive. That’s all there is to it.”

“If you say so.” Will made a halfhearted attempt to break free and smiled. The dark made his teeth seem glittering and dangerous. “Tell me how you’d like to possess me.”

“I want to keep you to myself. There is satisfaction to the idea of killing anyone who has ever touched you in any meaningful sort of way. I don’t want anyone to see you like this, or to have seen you like this.” Hannibal rubbed Will’s mouth with his thumb and smiled when Will bit into it, playfully but not gently. “Half-naked with your hair in disarray. Your beautiful, vicious smile. That anyone should have tasted you—”

“Ah, so that’s what’s bothering you.” Will’s smile turned into a smirk. “You intended for me to be your feast, but you were late to the party and someone already took a bite. A couple of someones, even. And they came away with more than a bite.”

“Crude implications.”

“Crude desires. I don’t mind.”

“No?”

“No.”

“And how do you propose I fulfill them?” 

Will didn’t say anything, but he let his legs part slightly. Hannibal angled Will’s face in his hands and kissed him, feeling something wild and unhinged tickling against the inside of his ribs; the freedom in not having to hide. The knowledge that he was free to indulge in the animalistic need that he usually did not apply to relationships, or to intimacy, or to anything human at all.

Breaking away from the kiss, Will turned and kneeled on the bed, resting his weight on his elbows. Hannibal bit the soft skin at the back of one thigh, struggling to keep his teeth from sinking into the warm flesh. Will made a delightful little noise that wavered between a moan and a gasp, pushing back into it, back arching cat-like with the effort.

“Will it leave a mark?” he asked, and Hannibal didn’t have an answer to give. He felt untethered, like he was floating farther and farther away from his professional judgement. He saw no reason not to.

“Would you like that?” he asked.

“It’d be crude. I told you I don’t mind.”

Hannibal kissed the bite mark and then clamped his teeth down again, placing another bite next to the first one. Will made a small sound, but didn’t pull away. Hannibal licked over the slight indentation of his teeth and then kissed his way from Will’s thigh to his ass, pulling apart his cheeks. Then he licked over his hole, slowly, tongue broad and wet, and Will hid a moan in his pillow. This was new for them; Hannibal could feel the way Will twitched, like he was considering moving away. But then the tension seemed to drain out of him, along with a deep, wind-like breath.

Hannibal kept licking, teeth occasionally scraping against the sensitive skin, until he felt Will becoming soft and loose and so wet he was gleaming with it, like his dangerous teeth when he smiled. Then he pulled his pajama pants down, spit in his hand and spread it as well as he could over his cock. It was far from ideal, but when he lowered himself over Will and started pushing inside him, it was a smooth and easy slide. 

Will’s breath hitched. When Hannibal pulled back and pushed back in, there was a loud, quivering moan.

“Does it hurt?” Hannibal asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. 

Will shook his head. “Intense. More.”

Hannibal made an amused sound. “So it’s not enough?”

Will reached back and fumbled around blindly for a moment before he found Hannibal’s head and pulled on his hair, hard. “Too much. Keep going.”

Hannibal relented, snapping his hips faster and harder, Will’s hand still a tight fist in his hair. He barely felt it, focused as he was on the near-comforting idea of being inside of Will in this visceral animal sense, with nothing between them, nothing separating his flesh from Will’s flesh. Like this, he could remember the feeling of sliding a knife into Will with uncomfortable clarity, the way he had pushed his body to accept something it was not made to accept, and the sounds Will made, now and then – like he couldn't take it, like he wanted more. Too much and not enough.

“Hannibal,” Will ground out, tugging on his hair hard enough that it tingled across his scalp. “Touch me.”

For a moment, Hannibal thought about denying him, if only because he could. He was certain Will would have allowed it. But he wanted to feel it, to see it, so he wrapped a hand around Will’s cock and started stroking until he felt his entire body draw tight, and then unspool. Will clenched and unclenched around him, moaning in that way where he sounded young and afraid, and then he slumped, thighs quivering, like he couldn’t possibly hold himself up any longer. 

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s middle and flattened him to his stomach, giving a few erratic last thrusts before he came, pleasure washing over him beyond his conscious control – a thrilling and mildly disconcerting thing, every time. He couldn't slow the beat of his heart even if he tried.

As their harsh breathing evened out, the silence of the early morning seemed to crowd in on them. Hannibal carefully moved to lie down on his side, pulling Will along with him. They were still joined together, by sweat and come and body parts, by mutual affection and mutual awareness of that affection. 

“Being with Molly was not like this,” Will said, so, so quietly, like he was afraid of disrupting the eggshell brittleness of the moment. “It wasn’t like this with anyone.”

“What is this like?”

“It feels dangerous.”

“For you or for me?”

“For both of us.” Will shifted. “We should clean up and change the sheets.” 

Hannibal squeezed him and burrowed his face into the back of his neck. “Just a moment longer,” he murmured into Will’s skin, and felt Will give a small nod. They stayed locked together, breathing as one creature breathes, eyes open as the darkness slowly lifted from the room. Sleep was far away and they could not be closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are hugely appreciated. More of my Hannigram stuff can be found on my [tumblr](http://beatricenius.tumblr.com/) and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/beatricenius)


End file.
